


Italian Night

by strangestorys



Series: Spacedogs Tum Love [2]
Category: Adam (2009), Charlie Countryman (2013), Hannibal (TV)
Genre: (i just found that tag and love it), Belly Kink, Belly Rubs, Body Worship, Feeding, Feeding Kink, Fluff, Food, Food Kink, Food as a Metaphor for Love, Intercrural Sex, M/M, Masturbation, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Spacedogs, Stuffing, Weight Gain, binge eating, daddy tummy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-20
Updated: 2017-01-20
Packaged: 2018-09-18 16:52:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9394412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/strangestorys/pseuds/strangestorys
Summary: Nigel really enjoys Adam's cooking. Adam really enjoys Nigel really enjoying Adam's cooking. A fluffy, kinky, trashy standalone set a few months after the events of "Cherry Pie."





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Pay attention to the tags, this gets into some kink territory that may not be everyone's cup of tea, and may be triggering for some people with food or weight issues. Take care of yourselves, babes <3
> 
> On the other hand, if belly talk _is_ your jam, I really don't think you'll be disappointed by this :D

Adam stood over the stove, browning Italian sausage in the big frying pan he’d inherited from his mother. It was fragrant and rich, the warm smell of fennel reminding him of childhood dinners with his family. 

Nigel had been out on a job this afternoon, working out some business deal that Adam had decided he didn’t need to know the particulars of. They had an unspoken agreement that Nigel’s business was, well, _Nigel’s_ business, and as long as he stayed out of trouble, Adam didn’t want to know more than that.

He knew Nigel would be hungry when he got home, so he was making them a big lasagna from his family’s old recipe, one of Adam’s favorites. He’d never made this one before for Nigel, and hoped it would be a success. Saturdays were always Italian night in their house, which meant either pasta or chicken parmesan, or, on lazier evenings, ordering a pizza. 

Lasagna was one of those things that took a while to make and kept well, so he was making enough for a few days’ leftovers. Even if Nigel didn’t like it (which was _highly_ unlikely, as to Adam’s knowledge, Nigel had _never_ not liked food), Adam could have it, not minding the repetition of having the same thing for dinner several nights in a row.

When the sausage had browned, he poured a couple of cans of crushed tomatoes into the pan, stirring it all together and leaving it to simmer while he drained the noodles and got the casserole dish ready.

While he worked, he felt himself blush as he thought about their morning. They’d taken long enough in their shower together that Nigel hadn’t even had time for a real breakfast before his meeting, a piece of toast hanging from his mouth as he rushed out the door.

It had been worth it, though, both of them making out, pressed lazily against each other under the hot water, slick cocks rubbing together against Nigel’s belly.

Adam thought it was maybe a bad habit to get into, since both breakfast and being on time for appointments were very important, but a place inside of him hoped their joined showers would become a routine, at least on the weekends.

The feel of Nigel’s body against his was just _so good_ , and it had only gotten better as Nigel had grown over the last few months since discovering Adam’s _interest_ in his size. His little tummy was becoming more of a potbelly, hanging out roundly in front of him when he stood and settling above his waistband when he sat. His smaller shirts were strained, and even the bigger ones protested after a good dinner. The tank tops he continued to wear underneath, for some reason Adam couldn’t fathom, were skintight, and he couldn’t keep them from riding up constantly. Around his sides, his hips had grown into two perfect handfuls that bulged appealingly over his belt. Even his ass was a little bigger and plusher, its roundness filling out his boxers.

He was gorgeous, and Adam couldn’t get enough of him.

…and then there was his _appetite_ , which had always been healthy, but lately was verging on insatiable. Adam wondered sometimes if all of that was because he knew Adam liked it, or if Adam’s attraction was just a convenient excuse to give in to overindulgence.

Nigel was finally settled and comfortable, not struggling to make ends meet, which Adam knew was a big change from his past life. It made Adam feel warm inside to provide that for him, to let him relax and enjoy himself.

Besides, Adam thought as he layered the sauce into the casserole pan, he had always enjoyed cooking. It was predictable and methodical, and he loved the routine of it, how following the same steps always led to the same results. He’d never had a huge appetite himself, and no real reason to cook a lot, but now that he had Nigel, he found himself in the kitchen much more often. He loved keeping his partner warm and fed, and he knew that that kind of care was a way that Nigel accepted love.

And the _sex_ had truly been _outrageously_ good lately. Adam’s honesty about his turn-ons had led them into being much more open with each other. It turned out Nigel loved being the big man to Adam’s delicate frame as much as Adam did, and their desire for each other only increased the bigger Nigel got.

He pulled the cheese out of the refrigerator, a tub each of ricotta and fresh mozzarella, which he sliced before layering it on top of the pasta and topping it with more sauce. He built the casserole up until he ran out of ingredients, pleased that he had just the right amount of everything, including a little cheese left at the end to top it off.

Now all he had to do was bake it and get the garlic bread ready. He popped the heavy casserole into the preheated oven and set the timer, then went for the counter where he always kept the bread and found… nothing.

That was odd… he thought back to his trip to the grocery store earlier, remembering going down the aisles for meat, pasta, dairy, and canned goods. He distinctly remembered talking to the butcher about which sausage was the freshest, and checking the milk cartons for the farthest expiration date, and choosing the San Marzano tomatoes, which he’d had to reach to the back of the shelf to get, but didn’t remember choosing a good, dent-free loaf of Italian bread. Huh. He must have gotten distracted and forgotten. Maybe those morning showers together _weren’t_ the best idea.

He sighed. After the casserole came out, he could run back to the grocery and probably be back before Nigel came home. They didn’t _need_ the garlic bread, but they _always_ had garlic bread, and besides, Nigel loved it. Adam wasn’t one to mess with routine or to risk disappointing Nigel, though he knew his partner would be happy with whatever he made.

He went back to his room to put on a sweater and find his coat again, sitting at the kitchen table to read the new issue of _Popular Science_ and keep an eye on the timer until it dinged. Soon the whole apartment smelled amazing, like childhood dinners at his grandmother’s house. He couldn’t wait to share this dish with Nigel, and imagined fondly how he would moan and curse over how good it was, like he always did with Adam’s cooking. Nigel would definitely have seconds, and Adam found himself wondering if they’d have fewer days of leftovers than he’d assumed. Maybe he should have made more? No, this was just a test run, he could do a bigger one next time if it went well… 

The beeping of the timer interrupted his thought process, and he stared blankly at the magazine page, realizing he hadn’t absorbed anything he’d read while he was thinking about Nigel. He never thought he’d be one of those people who became so absorbed with their partner that they couldn’t concentrate, but that was before Nigel had unceremoniously walked into his life (or, rather, bumped into his life, when they collided on a crowded uptown subway train. Adam had insisted on buying him a hot dog from a street vendor to apologize, and Nigel had just grinned like a loon at him the whole time, immediately smitten. Little did they know, it would become one of many, many hot dogs Adam would buy for Nigel in the park.).

Still smiling as he remembered Nigel’s dopey face when he ate that hot dog, mustard smeared on his chin, Adam flicked off the timer and pulled the lasagna out of the oven. Once it was on the counter cooling, cheese brown and bubbly on top, he put his coat on and headed out the door, practically running to get to the grocery in time to be home for Nigel.


	2. Chapter 2

Nigel hurried home as fast as he could after his business deal, cash burning a hole in his pocket. He hated having to go out on these things on the weekends and miss time with Adam, but duty called.

His belly growled as he sat on the train, counting the stops until he was home. He lamented the piece of toast that was long gone, but couldn’t really bring himself to regret the time spent with Adam in the shower, his bird’s warm little hand on him, bringing him off hard under the hot water. He could get used to that sort of thing in the morning… as long as it didn’t interfere with breakfast anymore. They’d really have to work on their timing.

He turned his key in the lock and opened the door. It smelled _incredible_ inside, like comfort food and garlic and meat.

“Adam?” he called out, expecting him to be in the kitchen.

No one answered. That was odd. He took off his jacket and left it on the hook by the door, then walked through the kitchen.

He didn’t see Adam, but he did see a big casserole pan full of what looked like lasagna. _So that’s what that smell was._ It looked like it had just come out of the oven, hot and bubbly.

“Adam?” he called out again.

No answer.

The lasagna was just sitting there, smelling like heaven, and densely covered in cheese. Nigel _loved_ cheese, Adam knew that. His bird was so good to him.

His empty stomach growled loudly at the smell, just sitting there, teasing him. Dinner seemed so far away.

He tried to ignore it, going on to the fridge to pull out a beer, but when he turned back around, it was still there, looking amazing. He took a long pull from his beer, trying to convince himself to just walk out of the kitchen and forget about it until Adam got home and they could eat.

But how long would it be until Adam got home? Where had he even gone? Did he mean for Nigel to wait for him?

Just one piece couldn’t hurt, right? He had to know how hungry Nigel would be, and he must have left this here for him. That was the most logical answer, Nigel decided.

He knew he’d be demolishing a hefty portion at dinner anyway, may as well have some of it now, right? It was all going to the same place in the end.

Grabbing a plate from the cabinet, he cut himself a corner square. A half portion, nothing big. Just a little to take the edge off of his hunger while he waited for dinner. Adam couldn’t mind that, he’d have to understand. He probably _wanted_ him to. After all, it was Adam’s shy urging that had created the significant growth of Nigel’s appetite…

 _…and of Nigel himself_ , he thought as he reached down to pat his grumbling belly. He’d need to buy new shirts soon, and he still wasn’t quite sure how he felt about that. This one was still ok, but most of them were a chore to button around his now-round stomach, and they always rode up constantly around his girth. Jeans with a bigger waistband probably wouldn’t go amiss either, he thought as he felt his current ones digging into his sides a little too snugly.

But Adam obviously _loved_ it. Their sex life had gone through the roof as Nigel had begun overeating more often and putting on weight. He often caught Adam ogling him as he changed clothes, and when they cuddled on the sofa after dinner, Adam’s hand always gravitated towards Nigel’s belly, rubbing the ache away from his overindulgence. More often than not, they couldn’t get halfway through whatever program they were watching without Adam’s insistent erection pressing against Nigel’s thigh, and who was Nigel to deny his bird anything?

Nigel had always loved eating, and he had discovered that Adam found a lot of satisfaction in making sure he was fed and cared for. It made Nigel’s heart feel warm in a way he didn’t really know how to deal with.

 _Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to continue this experiment for a little longer_ , he thought as he pulled absentmindedly at his tank top where it had ridden up on the side. Maybe Adam would want to go shopping with him to pick out new clothes.

For now, though, the smell of the lasagna was overpowering him, and he dug into his plate with gusto, standing over the kitchen counter.

And _Christ_ was it good. It was _big_ , too, several layers tall, and all of them packed with Italian sausage and cheese, and covered in tangy tomato sauce that balanced it all out perfectly.

He found himself moaning around every mouthful, and the next time he looked down, he was surprised to see that his plate was already empty.

Dinner was so far away, and he wasn’t nearly satisfied. Adam wouldn’t miss just another little piece, right?

He cut himself another helping, a little bigger than the last one, and plowed through it with the same abandon.

Much better. His stomach had stopped growling, and he felt almost satisfied. Not stuffed, not even full, but definitely not hungry anymore. He’d be very ready for another portion at dinner, but he could wait until then. And he was looking forward to it even more now, knowing how fucking delicious it was. He’d have to tell Adam this recipe was a keeper.

He popped open another beer and went to sit on the couch, turning on some Discovery Channel show about deep sea creatures. After a few minutes, he realized he could still smell the lasagna. He tried to ignore it and focus on giant squids or whatever the fuck was on TV, but it was a losing battle. After he’d downed about half of his beer, he found himself wandering back into the kitchen and making himself another small portion, bringing it out to the living room to eat in front of the TV.

It was still _so_ good, and he moaned as he worked his way through his first bite, and then his second, and on until he finished the plate off.

He felt good now, nearing full. He rubbed his belly contentedly as he finished the last of his second beer.

When his program ended, he got up to get another beer at the commercial break, and as he walked past the stove, he noticed the lasagna again. He hadn’t even finished a third of it, there was still a ton left for dinner. It smelled _so good_ , and now that he’d cut into it, the cheese was oozing out of the layers in a way that was entirely too enticing. His hindbrain was telling him to just go for it, have another piece. After all, why would Adam have made a lasagna so big if it weren’t to allow Nigel to eat to his heart’s content?

Deciding that that logic was sound, he popped another beer and picked up the whole tray to take into the living room. No reason to keep dirtying plates, was there?

He dug right into the tray, proud of his ingenuity. Adam would appreciate that, he was sure of it.

At the next commercial, he noticed he was feeling a little constrained, so he leaned back to undo his belt and pants. He sighed as his belly spilled out to fill the newly created space, letting him breathe a little easier. He took a deep breath, resulting in one of his shirt buttons popping off and landing with a dull _plink_ on the coffee table. _When the fuck did this shirt get so tight?_ He groaned and reluctantly unbuttoned it the rest of the way, leaving it on the couch behind him and rubbing his freed gut underneath his tight tank top. They’d just have to move that shopping trip up.

He kept going while the program played, now focusing more on penguin migration patterns than on the rapidly diminishing casserole in front of him, not realizing exactly how much he was putting away.

At the next commercial, he leaned back to stretch, and suddenly felt just how full he was. His gut was round and tight and practically aching. There was still a healthy amount of lasagna left, more than enough for the two of them for dinner. He took a sip of beer and felt it land heavily in his belly.

He’d come so far that finishing the lasagna almost seemed like a challenge now. It had been a while since he’d been this full – even Adam’s best efforts usually stopped short of sheer hedonism. But Adam wasn’t here, was he? And as long as Nigel left enough for Adam to have dinner later…

He reached down to pull the tray into his lap, which he reasoned would be much more comfortable than leaning over to eat off the table, especially with the obstacle his full belly now presented.

As his program started again, he found his second wind, shoveling in thick layers of the dense pasta, meat, and cheese. He moaned at how good it was, and at just how satiated his belly was feeling. In the years before he’d met Adam, he’d rarely had enough to eat, often grabbing quick dinners at corner stores between jobs. His memories of childhood hardly ever included warm, home-cooked meals, and there was almost never enough to go around. This new life he had now was so comfortable, so warm and satisfying. There was so much of Adam’s love in the food he made, and Nigel found that he couldn’t get enough of it. Now that he was allowing himself to gorge on all of that, he realized he didn’t want to stop.

But he couldn’t go on forever, and eventually, as he absentmindedly paused to rub his now-straining belly, he noticed that only a square of lasagna remained.

 _Fuck_. _Had he really eaten that much?_

He couldn’t eat Adam’s dinner, that was too far for even him. He regretfully moved to put the tray on the table, feeling sluggish now, and lay back against the arm of the couch, exhausted.

He still had half a beer to finish, and he slowly took the final few sips, feeling his gut inch out just a little further, then putting the bottle down with relief.

He rubbed his sore belly, now massively round and warm, and groaned. _Fuck_. He really should get up to put the food back in the kitchen, but moving seemed like an impossible chore. He was sure he’d never been this stuffed in his life. He didn’t regret it, exactly, he’d truly enjoyed every minute of it, but he did have to admit that he may have gone a little too far this time.

With some effort, he shifted to lay back against the armrest and get comfortable. The TV droned in the background as he rubbed his pained belly in soothing circles and drifted off to sleep, not good for much more than that.


	3. Chapter 3

Adam ran through the grocery store as quickly as he could, but stopped to take his time picking out a good loaf of bread. Before he left the aisle, he thought twice and grabbed a second one as well. _You never know_.

As he was rounding the corner, looking over at the registers to see which one had the shortest line, his field of vision was suddenly full, and he almost collided with a tall man in a burgundy sweater vest.

“Adam?”

Adam looked up, surprised that the stranger knew his name.

“Oh! Dr. Erickson!”

“What a surprise to see you, how have you been?”

Dr. Erickson had been Adam’s favorite Physics professor in college. He hadn’t seen him since he’d graduated, though they’d emailed occasionally. 

He looked up at the rim of the professor’s glasses, finding it easier to focus there than on his eyes. He really was glad to see him, but the timing was astronomically bad, and he hoped he could cut this conversation short.

No such luck. 

They went from small talk about Adam’s current job in a lab at Columbia, to the professor’s research on quasars. It was truly fascinating, and Adam found himself becoming enthusiastic and remembering why he had enjoyed talking with this professor so much in school.

They moved from topic to topic, and once they’d gotten deep into a discussion of theories of Fermi acceleration, the professor received a text message and stopped to check his phone. “Excuse me, I must be going, but it was lovely to see you!”

“It was great to see you too, Dr. Erickson.”

“I’d love to have lunch some time.”

“We can do that. I’d like to hear more about your work.”

“Goodbye Adam.”

“Goodbye!”

As the professor walked off, Adam stopped to check his own phone and realized that they’d talked for over half an hour. He hurried through the checkout line and back up the few blocks to the apartment, hoping he hadn’t already missed Nigel.

When Adam opened the door and walked through the kitchen, the lasagna was gone. That was odd. He remembered putting it right there, on top of the stove, to cool before dinner.

“Nigel?”

No answer.

Taking off his coat, he walked into the living room to hang it in the coat closet, but stopped in his tracks at the sight before him.

The lasagna – or more accurately, what was _left_ of the lasagna – was sitting on the coffee table, next to a couple of empty beer bottles. Nigel was asleep on the sofa, snoring lightly, one hand on the dome of his belly where it rose and fell shallowly. Adam looked from Nigel back to the tray, noticing that almost _all_ of the lasagna was gone. He’d made enough for both of them for dinner, and _at least_ another couple night’s worth of leftovers.

There’s no way Nigel could have… could he? Adam look back at Nigel and felt his mouth drop open. He looked rounder than Adam had ever seen him, his white tank top stretched tight around his swollen gut and riding up to show his love handles. His pants were unbuttoned, belt hanging open to give his belly more room.

A shirt that Adam knew to be one of his biggest lay discarded across the back of the sofa. On closer look, Adam saw one of its buttons lying next to the lasagna tray on the table, an apparent martyr to the cause.

Nigel was bigger than he’d been the time he ate that entire large meat-lover’s pizza, or the time he’d gotten through that whole family-sized order of General Tso’s chicken… _with_ all of the rice and eggrolls that came with it.

He had to be in some discomfort, Adam thought, remembering both of those times, and how Nigel had groaned and complained all evening. Part of that was a show for Adam’s benefit, meant to elicit sympathetic words and belly rubs, but part of it was definitely real. No one could eat that much and feel fine afterwards.

As if sensing that Adam was there, Nigel opened his eyes and blinked a few times.

“Hey, baby. When did you get home?”

 

* * *

Nigel woke up from his nap to see Adam standing above him, staring heatedly.

"Nigel, what happened??"

"I... _hic_... I found the lasagna." When he hiccuped, his whole gut shook and he winced a little, more from shame than anything else.

"I can see that." Adam gave him a pitiful look. "That was our dinner, you know."

"It still is, babe. I just... had mine a little early, is all.”

"I mean, that was our dinner for _the next few days_."

"You mean you didn't make that just to see what I could do to it?"

"Nigel."

He looked up at Adam with hooded, drowsy eyes, grimacing a little as he shifted to sit up.

“Aren’t you uncomfortable?”

“Very. Just… put your hand right there.” He took Adam’s hand and placed it on the swell of his upper stomach. “Gently. Oh, that’s better. That helps a lot, babe.”

Adam’s eyes widened at the feeling. “You’re so tight.” He pressed in, just softly. “It almost doesn’t give at all.”

“Yeah, I can feel that.” He noticed Adam’s reaction, noticed his eyes turning black and cloudy. “You finally did it, I’m completely maxed out, bird.”

Adam pulled away for a second to sit down on the sofa next to him. Nigel shifted his legs to give him room.

Once they were settled, Adam pushed up Nigel’s tank top, gasping when he saw his straining gut and the trail of hair curving over the crest of it. He put his hand back on his belly to feel him skin-to-skin, and Nigel moaned with the relief of his touch.

“How did you even eat this much?” He looked at Nigel with sympathy. From the look on Adam’s face, Nigel realized he must really look pathetic like this, in so much discomfort from his own overindulgence.

Nigel gave him a miserable look, like a dog who knows he’s in trouble. “I don’t know, babe. It was just so fucking good, it was like I couldn’t stop.”

“Why did you?” Adam’s voice came out small, uncertain. He rubbed back and forth over his belly soothingly, curiously.

“Why did I eat so much? Or why did I stop?”

“Why did you stop?” He was whispering now.

_Oh fuck._ So he wasn’t mad. He was _into_ it. Goddamn, but Nigel loved him.

“Well just look at me, do you think I could have kept going?” Nigel tried for cheeky and it mostly came out uncertain. Just the thought of it made him wince.

“There’s a little more left.” Adam said matter-of-factly, as though the fact that lasagna still existed meant that Nigel could keep eating lasagna.

Nigel groaned. It really _was_ good enough that he wanted to, but he wasn’t sure he physically could. Now that he’d broken his eating trance, he was really feeling the effects of his overindulgence. His gut ached and growled in protest at the slightest movement. The thought of standing was incomprehensible, and he didn’t think he’d be going anywhere for another hour _at least_. Especially with Adam’s hand working its magic on him like that. Fuck, that was good.

“The rest is for you, I couldn’t just leave you without dinner. Especially when you _made_ it. Make yourself a plate, go ahead and eat. And then come back and keep rubbing my belly like that.”

Adam nodded, still staring intently at his belly. “Okay, I will. But I’m going to go make the garlic bread first.”

“The… the _what_?”

“The garlic bread, Nigel. It’s Italian night. We always have garlic bread on Italian night. That’s why I left, I went to the store to buy bread. I ran into a colleague and got held up talking to them, that’s why it took so long.”

“You’re telling me I fucking missed out on your _garlic bread!?_ ” Adam’s garlic bread was nothing short of a religious experience, and he was right, they _did_ always have garlic bread on Saturdays. Nigel should have remembered that earlier, before he ate himself into uselessness.

“You haven’t missed out, Nigel. I haven’t even made it yet. You can have some when it comes out of the oven if you want. I got two loaves because we always run out.”

As if to say _don’t you fucking dare,_ Nigel’s stomach let out a pitiful moan before he could answer, rumbling under Adam’s hand.

“ _Mmf_ … I think I’m gonna have to sit this one out, bird. I didn’t think it was possible to hit my limit, but I seem to have managed it.”

Adam looked at him skeptically, knowing Nigel _never_ turned down garlic bread. Before he’d demolished a 6-person lasagna, Nigel would have agreed with him, but now…

“It won’t be ready for another half-hour. You just rest, and maybe you can have some a little later.”

He winced at the thought. It really did sound good, but after this, he was sure he wouldn’t want to even _look_ at food for a couple of days.

“I’ll make you some ginger tea, how about that?”

“Ginger tea?”

“It’ll soothe your stomach, make you more comfortable.”

“I’m not sure I could even _fit_ any ginger tea in here, babe.” He looked down at the mountain that was his belly. _Fuck, he looked as huge as he felt._

“I’ll make you a small mug. Just try it. I think it will help you, it always helps me when I don’t feel well.”

“You’re not just trying to get me to take some of that garlic bread, are you?”

Adam blushed. “I… I just want you to feel good, Nigel. Even if it’s your own fault, you obviously don’t feel good right now, and I think this will help.”

“Okay, okay, sweetheart. Bring me a small mug. A _small_ mug. But no promises.”

“No promises. Just try it.”

Adam gave a final rub to Nigel’s belly and stood to walk into the kitchen.

Nigel lay back and felt himself start to doze again, his hand absentmindedly rubbing at his stomach for relief, though it wasn’t nearly as good as Adam’s had been. 


	4. Chapter 4

When he woke up again, there was a cooling mug of tea on the table beside him, and the apartment smelled thickly of garlic and butter. _Fuck_ , but that smelled good.

He shoved himself into a sitting position, belly already protesting a little less than it had before his nap, and picked up the tea. It wasn’t so much _tea_ as it was hot water with a chunk of ginger in it, but it smelled good, spicy and robust. It was just the right temperature not to burn his tongue, and Nigel chuckled a little. _Of course_ Adam knew how to keep tea at just the right temperature.

Nigel held the tea up to his mouth, already comforted by the rich smell, and took a tiny sip. When that sat okay in his stomach, he took a bigger one. He wasn’t sure if it was the tea that was helping, or just the knowledge that Adam cared enough to make it for him, but he did feel a little better. He cradled it against his chest to soak in the warmth, and nursed it slowly while he listened to Adam moving around in the kitchen.

Looking down at the table, he noticed that the lasagna tray and beer bottles had been cleared away. His shirt button, however, was still sitting there taunting him. _Fuck._ He really hadn’t intended to ruin his only comfortable shirt today. Maybe Adam would feel up to going shopping with him after breakfast tomorrow?

After a few minutes, Adam came back into the living room, carrying a plate of lasagna, a basket with a full loaf of garlic bread, and a glass of water. He sat next to Nigel and put the food on the table.

“You’re not going to eat at the dining table, bird?”

“I want to eat with you. You seem more comfortable on the sofa, so I thought I’d come sit with you on the sofa.”

Adam almost always ate at the dining table, it was part of his routine. And Adam hated deviating from his routine; really, the only thing that could get him to do so was Nigel, and even then it took special circumstances.

Nigel reached over to brush the curls from Adam’s forehead, then kissed him there gently. “You’re so sweet for me, bird. Always full of surprises. I could get up and sit with you there if you wanted.”

“Could you?” Adam skeptically eyed his still-swollen gut.

“…possibly,” Nigel amended sheepishly.

Adam laughed a little. “It’s okay, Nigel. I’m sure you could, but we can sit here. I know it’s more comfortable for you. Can I get you anything, some water or a beer?”

_Ungh_. The thought of adding more to his already packed belly made him groan, but a beer really _did_ sound good. The tea had him feeling much more like himself. Maybe a beer wasn’t _entirely_ out of the question.

“Bring a beer in here, bird. I might feel up to it in a minute. That tea of yours is a miracle worker.”

“Ginger has long been known to have a soothing effect on gastrointestinal discomfort.”

“I’m glad you know this stuff, if you’re going to keep feeding me like this, little otter.”

“I haven’t been _feeding_ you anything, Nigel. You just keep _eating_ when there’s food here.”

“Same thing,” Nigel said with a smile to let Adam know he was teasing him, his hand on Adam’s thigh.

Adam laughed and got up to get another beer from the fridge.

“If you wanted to feed me some of that garlic bread in a bit, I’m not sure I would complain,” Nigel called after him.

Nigel could see Adam’s blush from the living room.

Adam walked back in with the bottle and a churchkey, setting them down on the table in front of him.

“You can open it when you want it, I don’t want it to go flat.”

Nigel just watched Adam as he leaned down to pick up his plate and start eating. He couldn’t believe his luck, to have met this perfect human who took care of him so well, who was so thoughtful with him, so sweet. Nigel had never had someone think about his needs like this. If he thought about it too much, he got emotional.

“This is really good.” Adam said after he took a bite.

“It really, really is,” Nigel said, patting his belly for emphasis. “I only wish I could fit some more in here.”

“There isn’t any more, Nigel. Unless you want mine.”

“I’m not going to eat your lasagna, babe. As good as it is, watching you enjoy it is pleasure enough for me.”

“Corny, Nigel.”

“Corny, but true,” Nigel answered, leaning over to kiss behind Adam’s ear. Adam let out a tiny moan. “How’s your dinner?”

“It’s, uh…” Nigel was still kissing along his neck, chuckling at how easy it was to make Adam lose his train of thought.

“Yes?”

“Oh, uh. It’s delicious. It’s, uh… _god_ , that feels good, Nigel.”

“Does it?” Nigel purred, loving how Adam sped up, trying to get through his food faster. “I’ll let you eat then, wouldn’t want to distract you.”

He pulled away and laid back with his hand on Adam’s thigh, delighting in the tiny frustrated groan Adam gave.

Adam finished his lasagna pretty quickly after that, obviously trying to hurry things along, then moved on to the garlic bread, taking his food in separate courses as usual.

It still smelled amazing, and Nigel could see the melted butter threatening to drip off the edge. His belly made a little warning noise, but he ignored it.

“How about you pass me one of those pieces of bread, babe?”

Adam eyed his belly hesitantly. “…are you sure, Nigel?”

“No, I’m not sure. Actually, I think I’d prefer if you fed it to me.”

Adam went bright red, swallowing hard around the bite in his mouth.

“I… oh. Okay. If you’re sure.”

“Trust me, I wouldn’t forgive myself if I didn’t have at least a piece of your garlic bread. Go ahead and finish yours first,” Nigel urged, leaning forward to pop the top on his beer. He gingerly took a sip and it went down just fine, so he took another, and another. He’d never seen Adam eat _anything_ as fast as he ate the rest of that garlic bread.

As he shoved the last bite in his mouth, he grabbed another piece and leaned back so he was closer to Nigel.

“God that looks good. Bring it over here.”

Adam swallowed hard, then held the bread up to his mouth. Nigel bit into it, letting out a loud moan. His overfull belly expanded just the littlest bit when he swallowed, but he really couldn’t keep himself from enjoying this. It was soft and buttery and just the right amount of crisp around the edges. Perfect, as always.

“Fuck, baby, this is so good. How did you get so good at making garlic bread?”

“We always made it when I was a kid. It’s easy, you just melt the butter and chop up garlic and parsley, and you spread it on the loaf and bake it.”

“How do you not weigh 500 pounds, with all the good food you know how to make?” he asked, taking another bite.

“I can’t eat like you can, Nigel, you know that.”

“If you keep cooking like this and leaving it all for me, _I’m_ going to weigh 500 pounds by the end of the year.”

“Nigel, don’t be ridiculous. It would take a much longer time than a year for even _you_ to put on 300 pounds.”

Nigel chuckled. “You obviously didn’t watch my performance today, little bird.”

“No, but I did see the aftermath. It’s very impressive, I wish I’d been able to watch.”

“My body is telling me there won’t be a next time, but if there is, I’ll make sure you’re in the front row for it, how about that?” He winked at Adam, delighting in the blush he got in return.

The bread disappeared much too quickly, and Nigel didn’t miss the disappointed look on Adam’s face when he reached the end.

“Well, go on then, get me another piece.”

“How are you still hungry??”

“Hungry has nothing to do with it, it’s just so good. Why the hell did you make two loaves of garlic bread if you didn’t want me to eat them?”

“To go with the leftovers, Nigel. Though I guess that’s a moot point now.”

“Damn right it is. Get me another piece of bread.”

After Nigel finished his second piece and washed it down with the remainder of his beer, he laid back again with a groan, completely maxed out, feeling impossibly big.

“Come here, bird. Come work your magic on me.”

“I’m guessing you’re not going to want any dessert?”

Nigel just groaned and reached for Adam’s hand, planting it firmly on his own stomach.

“Don’t talk, just rub.”

“I got ice cream sandwiches at the store.”

“You know I love ice cream sandwiches, baby.”

“I know, that’s why I got them.”

“You know there’s no way I’m eating one right now, baby.”

Adam looked mildly disappointed, but kept rubbing his belly in gentle circles. It felt absolutely incredible on his oversensitive skin. “I assumed as much.”

“I think I’d probably bust this tank top if I even tried.”

“That seems unlikely, Nigel. It’s very difficult to tear that sort of fabric. It would probably just ride up more.”

“Was that a challenge?”

“Nigel.”

Nigel laughed, feeling his whole belly shake under Adam’s hand. “I’ll have mine tomorrow, bird. You go ahead.”

“Ok, I’ll be back, will you be ok?”

“I can handle things for thirty seconds while you run to the freezer, babe. Go get your sandwich.”

Adam did, practically running back into the living room to keep Nigel company. God, he was cute.

As in all things, Adam was methodical about it, licking all around the edges to catch any drips before every bite. _Goddamn,_ but that tongue was appealing. If Nigel weren’t currently feeling like a harbor seal approaching winter, he’d be finding a much better use for that tongue; as it was, he was content to just watch.

Adam noticed Nigel’s intent gaze, and blushed.

“What are you thinking about, bird?”

Adam took another bite of his ice cream sandwich, licking along the edge to stop a drip before it could land on his pants. His incredibly tented pants, Nigel noted.

“I’m, um. I’m thinking about ice cream. And how I wish you could have some.”

“Anything else?” He prodded, leaning over to kiss behind Adam’s ear again.

“And how… how good you look. And how much I’d really like us to have sex.”

“How good I look? I look like a penguin getting ready for breeding season.”

“You look… big. It’s sexy.”

Nigel ran his hand up the inside of Adam’s thigh, stopping at the end to cup his cock beneath his jeans.

“A big, sexy penguin, huh?”

“Not… I’m not sure I’d put it like that, but yes. Big and sexy.”

Adam took another hurried bite of his sandwich, trying to finish the last half.

“How about you let me take care of those last bites, and then we’ll get you taken care of, love.” Nigel purred in Adam’s ear.

Adam nodded furiously, swallowing his bite before passing it over to Nigel. Nigel took a bit into it with a moan. He quickly finished off the rest of the dessert and leaned back again, a hand pressed to his aching gut.

“Oof, that’s it. I’m _really_ out of room now.”

Adam put his hand back on Nigel’s overstuffed belly, in awe. He was, as always, gentle about it, and his shy adoration squeezed at Nigel’s heart.

“You really like this, huh babe?”

Adam just leaned over him to kiss him furiously, tongue invading his mouth before he could get his bearings.

He chuckled into the kiss. “I’m the luckiest son of a bitch in the world, you know that?”

“Me too, Nigel.”

“Let’s go to bed, love.”

“I need to clean the…”

“No, you don’t. Bed. Now.”

“Oh… okay. Yes. Okay.”

Adam stood up and picked up his dishes to take into the kitchen. Nigel braced himself against the couch cushions and breathed hard, trying to muster the strength to stand.

“Nigel? Are you coming?”

“Give me a second, babe. I didn’t think through the logistics of this.”

“Do you need… can I help?”

“Fuck, it feels like I’ve got a bowling ball in my lap.”

“It looks like it, too.”

“Hey, watch it. You created this. Give me a hand here.”

Adam gave him a withering look. “I didn’t force you to eat until you couldn’t stand, Nigel. That was all your doing.”

“But you liked it, right?”

Adam blushed and held out his hand, and Nigel took it, heaving himself onto his feet. He swayed a little, getting used to his shifted center of gravity. He didn’t miss how Adam’s eyes went straight to his protesting middle where it hung out of his open jeans.

“Oh lord.” As if in agreement, his belly gave a loud moan, obviously unhappy at having been moved. “When did this apartment get so big?”

“Nigel.”

“Okay, okay, but you’re gonna have to do all the work when we get there.”

“Deal.” 


	5. Chapter 5

Nigel did finally stumble all the way to the bed, shedding his clothes on the way and sighing with relief when he laid back on the pillows.

Adam laid down next to him, still dressed, and pressed a gentle hand to Nigel’s belly.

“We gotta start having dessert in bed.”

“That sounds messy, Nigel.”

“It sounds a hell of a lot easier than moving from the couch afterwards. Think about how much more I could eat if I didn’t have to worry about standing.”

“Are you saying you want me to go get you another ice cream sandwich?”

“Christ, Adam. I can't just eat _all_ the food in the house.”

“That would be far from all the food in the house, Nigel. There’s still stuff for breakfast, and sandwiches, and some apples, and…”

“Shh, that’s a challenge for another day. Get your clothes off and come here.”

Adam hurried to undress, lying back down next to Nigel. He looked him over uncertainly, noting that he was still soft. “Are you… do you want to…?”

“I’m way too worn out, not good for much right now. But I’m still going to make sure it’s good for you, bird.”

“It’s ok, Nigel, you don’t have to… I can just masturbate.”

“Like hell you can. Here,” Nigel rolled onto his side, “lay down behind me…” Adam did, hesitantly. “…yeah, yeah, just like that.”

Nigel felt his cock press up against his ass, and he rutted back onto it. Just because he wasn’t in the mood didn’t mean he wouldn’t enjoy the hell out of this. “You’re so hard, baby, I love you so much.”

Adam just moaned at the feeling of Nigel’s plush ass against him, hand coming up to grip at his soft hip.

“Good, hold on however you want. We’re going to try something new.”

“Oh… okay.”

“Put yourself between my legs.”

“Between your… like, your thighs?”

“Yeah,” Nigel said, lifting a little to give Adam room. “Don’t ever fucking tell anybody this, but this is what we’d do in the army, a hell of a lot easier and less messy than the real thing.”

“Wait. Nigel, you were in the… the _army_?”

“…yeah, the army, everyone was. We didn’t have a choice back then. And just about every teenage boy in Romania learned to get off like this, for want of a better option.”

“You want me to fuck your thighs.”

“Just try it, otter.” And with that, he shifted his leg back down, and Adam let out a loud moan from behind him. 

Adam gripped his hip harder as he reflexively pulled out and shoved back in.

“ _Oh god_.”

“What did I tell you?”

With a loud moan, Adam thrust again, harder. Despite his exhaustion, Nigel was feeling his own cock start to stir at Adam’s enthusiasm.

“It’s so… it’s so _warm_.”

“Yeah, babe, I know.”

Adam continued thrusting, moving his hand around to grab a big handful of Nigel’s belly and hold on tight. Nigel felt Adam’s hipbones press into his ass at every thrust, and it was more delicious than it really had any right to be.

“ _Fuck_ , Adam.”

As Adam circumnavigated Nigel’s front, the back of his hand brushed against Nigel’s cock, now hard and curving against his stomach.

“You’re… do you want me to…”

“Just take care of yourself, I can wait.”

“Okay… I’m close, I’m so close. You feel so good, your legs and your body. You’re so warm, Nigel, warm and thick and big, I’m about to… I’m gonna…”

Nigel felt Adam’s hips stuttering and his warm sigh against the back of his neck, and then warm release spilling all over his thighs.

“Good, baby, that’s good.” As Adam caught his breath behind him, Nigel hurriedly began to tug on his own cock, surprised at how turned on he was. He brought himself off quickly with a grunt, then turned around to get comfortable on his back again, letting Adam curl around him.

“I could have…” Adam broke off into a yawn.

“Shh, sleep. Maybe tomorrow.”

“Okay.” Adam sounded drowsy already. “Nigel?”

“Yeah, babe?”

“I’m proud of you.”

He completely ruined dinner, destroyed all their leftovers, and was in too much of a food coma to fuck Adam the way he deserved, and Adam was _proud_ of him. How lucky can one man get?? Nigel chuckled, feeling his belly shift under Adam’s arm. “Thanks, bird. I’m proud of you too. Always.”

“‘Night.”

“Goodnight, love.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

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